


Urges

by messyfanficauthor_13



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Will Graham, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Dark Hannibal Lecter, Domestic, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, First Time, Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 01, Hannibal Lecter Being an Asshole, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Season/Series 01, Someone Help Will Graham, Top Hannibal Lecter, Vulnerable Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messyfanficauthor_13/pseuds/messyfanficauthor_13
Summary: A simple fanfiction a friend and I worked on together.





	Urges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FantasyRyder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyRyder/gifts).



Brisk morning light leaked through disheveled blinds that draped over the single window in Will’s bedroom, casting upon his pale countenance in a way that felt both convenient and coincidental. A subtle crease appeared between the man's brows in frustration as he was pulled from his sleep too soon, unable to reminisce the events that unfolded the night before. 

Gradually, memories trickled into his mind, as he recalled the mild panic attack that took hold of him after a particularly rough case brutalized his unknowingly swollen brain. Distantly he remembered his psychiatrist's voice, as he had called his apprehensive friend as the attack began to unfold. 

The hour it should have taken Hannibal to reach his home went by in a blink of an eye, as though Hannibal had been close, though Will wasn’t in the state of mind to dwell on that detail and rationalized that his deteriorated mental state made the passage of time feel shorter. It wasn’t implausible afterall.

Still in bed, the smell of cheap sausages and eggs cooking indicated breakfast being cooked, lending him a good enough reason to drag himself away from the comfort his blankets provided. Dogs congregated around his ankles loyally as he reached his underwhelming kitchen.

The tall blond man Will was expecting was standing by the small stove, flipping over sausage patties. The table was set and the curtains were cracked open, revealing white snow that blanketed Will's yard humbly.

“Would you like condiments?” Hannibal asked in a polite, chatty tone, turning to regard the profiler who stood in the doorway. He was in a thin shirt and pair of pants that draped over his defined form in a way that almost felt like a tease. It was obvious Hannibal had been up shortly before Will, as there was nothing that resembled exhaustion on Hannibal's cracked features. Despite that fact, the doctor had yet to change into the clothes Will was used to seeing him in and his usually flat, kept hair was unruly and tostled. Will felt another wall crumble between them, as if seeing Hannibal in his currently disheveled form lead the two to an even more intimate relationship. “I do not know everything you have available, but I'll put it on your eggs if you so suggest…”, he trailed calmly, reliving the events that unfolded the night before as if remembering a good dream.

The steps Will made to the kitchen were silent aside from the soft padding of dogs who followed him. Nonetheless, he felt it odd that Hannibal could sense his presence despite the insistent sizzle of the sausage he was flipping, but reminded himself of Hannibal’s keen sense of smell and sensitivity to stimuli in general. 

Realizing he had spaced at the scene laid out in front of him, Will's eyes shot down to the faded and scratched up carpet below his feet as he nodded apprehensively to himself.

From the corner of his eye, Hannibal watched as Will's cowlicks bobbed almost comically with the movement and how his apprehension and tension melted away when one of Will's larger mutts, nudged his head under a delicate, limp hand.

“Erm, yes,” Will coughed out, breaking the comfortable silence Hannibal was enjoying, “just ketchup I think.” He walked past the psychiatrist, making a point to leave him space to work even though Great Value sausages were far from what Hannibal usually cooked and demanded space for in his kitchen. “Sorry my kitchen isn’t as extravagant as your’s, Doctor.” he laughed out with a hoarse edge once he opened and looked over the contents of his fridge. He pushed aside a six pack of Redd's Ale and took the nearly empty ketchup bottle in hand, shaking it to dislodge the sauce at the bottom before his eyes met the small, glass bottle of Tabasco that sat lonely in a drawer on the fridge's door. “Ah. There.”

Tossing the bottle of ketchup into the trash, he hands Hannibal the bottle and silently regarded the strength in the older man's hand.

Will shook out of his trance, “I’m...sorry,” he began, finding his words, “but I don’t really remember much of anything that happened last night.” He mumbled with a sad, lost edge in his tone, sitting at the island to watch Hannibal work.

Hannibal looked into his patients vacant eyes before looking away when regards were not reciprocated. The man smiles faintly to himself, merely a subtle mouth quirk but strong on the psychiatrist’s usual stoic countenance. He remembered being in town, predicting how his recent activities would affect the mental state of the man he calls friend. He was pleased to find his teacup unshattered, but cracking, and descended into the role of caregiver.

Nothing truly malicious happened between them while Will teetered in an unsteady dance with his sanity and illness wracking his brain, only Hannibal appreciating the disintegration of the walls Will built for him. In the state Hannibal dug out of the boy that night, Will was most pure and flayed open for Hannibal's eyes and amusement, and once the episode was over and Will slipped into rest, Hannibal realized how badly he wanted to keep the fellow who watched him cook currently.

Will couldn't place why, but under the scrutiny of Hannibal's maroon eyes, he felt like a moth pinned to a board. As he coped with the feeling, his nimble fingers wrung and he waited for Hannibal's consolation and response. 

¨How did you sleep last night?¨ his thin lips curved back into a calm, shadow of a smile, ¨It seems as though it was well. You never moved or attempted to walk in your sleep¨ He sipped the off brand coffee Will had beside the coffee machine, silently unpleased with the bland taste but ignoring the disgust in lou to focusing on his patient’s response. 

“Better than I have in a while, thank you,” Will mumbled politely, “but you didn’t answer my question…”

¨Well…” Hannibal began, “it's hard for even me to summarize. All that is worth noting is that you needed someone last night, and you reached for me first.¨ his smile fades in contemplation of the words he uttered as he sits his mug down and turned off the burners. He placed the food onto Will’s plate artfully despite the cheapness of the ingredients, circles around the island, places the plate down, and gently cups Will´s cheek. ¨I wanted you to be okay.¨ he continued sincerely after Will sat in silence after his initial response.

His reaction to Hannibal’s surprising touch was predictable but rehearsed as Will’s stormy blue eyes averted firmly, not in a rude fashion but merely a reflex. Hannibal, when first familiarizing himself with Will, was pleased with the boy’s reaction to physical touch despite his state of introversion. Even in unconsciousness, the FBI profiler leaned and warmed at the touch of Hannibal’s hand. Now was no exception, as Will released a shuddery sigh that devolved and smoothed.

Will nodded his head no in his hand and released a hoarse, shuddery laugh. “This is the second time you’ve driven an hour from Baltimore for...” there was now a bite in Will’s tone, and an air of self-deprecation Hannibal aimed to brutalize in their future, “dumbass reasons.” Those blue eyes Hannibal had been staring into squeeze shut, but Will was considerably more relaxed. 

“Well would you have rather I put it off?” Hannibal’s tone was as composed as usual, but strikingly accusatory and protective,”While I understand your nature, I did not think abiding by it was worth risking your health…” Hannibal mumbled, slowly beginning to stroke his cheek bone to make him sink more into comfort. The psychiatrist was confusing even himself in that moment, words both sincere and disingenuous at once, as the comfort he put forward for Will made him feel weightless, but watching him shatter was almost more addictive.

Will’s cheekbone was rough with his patchy stubble, yet it was obvious how soft his skin was under the layer of masculinity the man tried to mask himself in. The texture of his skin wasn’t the only contradiction Will carried with him, as the squeezed lids loosened and his head lolled further into Hannibal’s palm. Hannibal took note of how his friend’s tendons and muscles flexed under the delicate skin of his neck, and recognized his revealed jugular with amusement. The trust the boy held for him was appreciated, and would have made Hannibal’s figurative heart quench if he had one.

“For your sake, I think we should take the day to relax-”

“Jack might cal-”

“And when he does, I will be happy to tell him your current state of unavailability. You’re still too tense, you cannot handle the trauma of helping Jack today.” He felt the constant pulse under his fingers pickup when Will interrupted, and slow again when Hannibal asserted himself. It made him hunger despite recently feasting on the victim Will had the pleasure of finding with the FBI the day before. “Finish eating.” He mumbled, almost demandingly.

Will’s neck was warm with life and an intense fever that he had forced himself to ignore, an onset of the encephalitis Hannibal still neglected to tell him about, as the sweet smell of swollen brain and Will’s rising insanity was too intoxicating for the cannibal. His pulse gradually picked up again below Hannibal’s thumb as he nodded and pulled away from the hold. 

Hannibal regretted the cold that washed over his palm when Will separated, and distinctly felt like he lost the life that Will provided him. 

He was dead again.

Gratefully, Will ate his breakfast, thanking Hannibal for the work, but forgetting to be thankful for the taste, as it was the uniform flavor of sausage grease, salt, pepper, and Tabasco sauce. Hannibal reminded himself to prepare a dish Will should actually be thankful for, absentmindedly debating if it should be lamb or the stockbroker who was rude to him that morning. 

When Will finished, Hannibal walked back to his room with him and laid on the side of the bed he had taken the night before, waiting on the brunette to lay down with him. 

Will sat on his side of the bed, lightly patting Winston's head as the mutt laid it on his bare knee, not exactly tired and preferring to savor the moment but too timid to make a move. Hannibal watched him pet the dog before looking over the younger’s slowly.

“Your body is pleasing to look at… Do you know why that is?” He mumbled mostly to himself, debating on whether or not he should touch him. 

Will donned his usual sleeping clothes: drab boxers that hugged his thighs, and an oversized grey shirt that showed off the rise and fall of Will’s moderately defined back when he leaned forward to pet his dog. His movements studder for a moment at Hannibal's words before glancing over his shoulder with his with naturally wide eyes. 

“I… don’t really know how to answer that question, Doctor.” He let out an abortive laugh after the statement, brows softened in confusion as well as appreciation for the compliment, “but thank you.” He looks back down, hiding the way his dimples cut deeply into his cheeks.

Hannibal sighed out of what he could only categorize as infatuation at Will avoiding the hint and pulled him against his broad, hard chest, kissing his stubbled cheek. 

One large hand cupped the curve of Will's oddly defined waist and the other coaxed his head gradually in Hannibal’s direction as he kisses around to peck his lips.

Hannibal wasn't surprised when he felt Will's lips, soft and hot from fever, but pulled away to see how Will, who barely fought against his actions, responded. Dark lashes touched his cheeks as his eyes were lightly shut before he opened them and leaned in for more.

Pleased with this response he began to move his lips against the others in a gentler fashion, holding his chin in place so the brunette couldn’t pull away. “You taste good” he mumbled, making the boy stay in place despite the tension that gradually washed over Will’s form. Winston walked out of the room disinterestedly once Will could no longer pet him. Hannibal pulled the thin grey shirt off and looked him over, taking in all of Wills curves and lines, subconsciously thinking of possible cuts but unable to imagine any of them coming from Will. Despite that, Hannibal failed to take Will’s rising discomfort into account.

“Hannibal,” WIll’s voice broke the tense silence, obviously slightly uncomfortable as he looked away from his doctor. It was rare Will referred to him by his first name, but every moment was savored. A dusty pink blush had spread from his face and to portions of his surprisingly bare torso and shoulders.

“Yes?” He looked up slowly, not wanting to pull away from his patient’s body, making sure to take in every feature before looking up at him. He wasn’t surprised by Will uttering his first name, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased, though he recognized how better it would sound as a moan, but he forced that into the back of his mind, convincing himself that he wouldn’t go so low as to obsess over flesh sexually. “What is it?” his tone was calm, not to show the slightest concern or interest. 

Will’s defined adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously, forcing himself to look at the far left wall, he nodded his head no. “This doesn’t feel right.” He continued nodding his head no softly, closing his eyes and allowing his head to turn in Hannibal’s direction. Different colors flashed in WIll’s brain, flashing red, green, and white lights sporadically in the abyss. Behind his eyelids, Will recalled what he could only assume was a dream, a numbness seeping into his veins, a memory of a flashing pendulum, heat, and of Hannibal’s voice saying things Will has never heard him say before. 

His heart rate picked up rapidly, pendulum now flashing red, a warning, and before what he believed was a fantasy could get worse, his eyes shot open to look at his psychiatrist, pupils nearly swallowing the cerulean that surrounded them.

Hannibal ran his fingers through Will’s long curly hair, then pushed his lips back into his, starting slowly and comfortably to reassure him nothing was to be rushed or forced upon him. 

A muffled sound of want left Will’s throat, nearly too soft to be noticable, but Hannibal was hyperaware at the moment, taking in every reaction and sound of the man pulled onto his lap. Will leaned deeper into the kiss, torso pressed against the broad chest of the older fellow. The warmth soothed him.

Hannibal smiled at the reciprocation, and pushed Will down against the bed softly, flipping their position slightly. Cupping the rough textured cheeks of the small teacher, he slid his knee up between his legs, straddling the other, then licking his lips almost hungrily. 

Will jumped at the feeling of Hannibal’s knee pressing against his hardening erection, legs now awkwardly splayed to make room for his psychiatrist’s and (assumed) friend’s knee. His mouth opened breathlessly to speak, “Oh God... Hannibal.” The words weren’t meant to be responded to, they were a prayer, to both Hannibal and God. Will, in his state, realized he could no longer tell the difference.

Enjoying what he heard, Hannibal dipped his tongue into his mouth, slowly French kissing him. His hands trailed down to his torso, ridding Will of his thin, cotton t-shirt and deciding to encourage him as he decided to put pressure on his stiff erection, curious as to how he would react. 

Will’s hardening erection pressed back against Hannibal’s knee, pleasingly responsive to the psychopath’s manipulation. His mouth was hot, and tasted faintly of the coffee he drank that morning. Once his shirt was removed from Will’s body, Hannibal’s eyes gazed over his surprisingly pale chest, defined yet soft pectorals and abs, and line of hair that lead to his boxers, said article slightly tight around Wills hips and thighs.

“Do you not buy better fitting clothing?” he mumbled absentmindedly, looking at the boxers. They offended him, so better to pull them off then keep them on. In response, Will shifted in embarrassment, feeling self conscious because of Hannibal’s obvious distaste for the clothes Will had available. Hannibal leaned down and kissed his chest in a soothing fashion, feeling the warm skin against his lips. What he would give to hear him moan. “I apologize if that was rude…”.

“I haven’t thought to,” WIll’s eyes averted, speaking as he panted hotly and ignored Hannibal’s apology, “haven’t had the ti-ah-!”

Hannibal bit into his collar bone, pushing the smaller man against the bed to keep him still. Will’s sound of surprise was sudden, yet as soft as most of the words that left his mouth. His head lolled back in pleasure and pain, both revealed to be linked.

Satisfied with his reactions and WIll’s state of arousal, Hannibal released a husky chuckle. A meer preamble and the younger man was practically dripping in pre-cum. His psychiatrist pulled away to watch every twitch and flex of muscles as well as the rise and fall of his chest. It was more than satisfying, as a matter of fact, there was something more Hannibal couldn’t place. The aggravation of not being able to place the exact fluttering sensation in his gut only served to make him want more. He grabbed his hips “Turn over and present yourself to me.” His tone was calm, but with an undertone of urgency laid below it. 

Will could practically feel the rush of blood to his dick at such words leaving the polite doctor's mouth, easily succumbing to his request. He was unsure why but he felt like he'd be willing to listen to anything the doctor told him to do. Will rolled over, laying flat against the bed as he was still too timid to present his hips in such a lewd fashion.

Hannibal watched, noting every feature on his back: the perfect bone structure and lack of scars. It was pale, a clean slate. The irritation and possessiveness he felt layered onto itself as he smiled faintly, hand swiftly coming down to swat at the plump flesh of his rump. “I said I wanted to see you present, William.” 

Will jerked, and with a tantalizing swaying movement lifted his hips and raised up on his knees. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled softly.

“Don’t apologize to me…” The shrink’s tone was apologetic, still calm, still sickeningly composed despite the way his fringe unsmoothed and hung down in front of his eyes ferally. He kissed down his back to his neck, then tilted his head to kiss WIll’s cheek. 

Will was instantly soothed by the action, a breathless sound of appreciation leaving his pinkened lips as he grasped the cheap sheets below him, “It's okay,” Hannibal spoke, chills rocketing up his arms and back at the brush of Hannibal's lips against the skin of his ear.

Trailing back down his back to his original stance, he spread Will’s cheeks, noting how one was slightly tinged pink. He looked over the hole revealed to him and made it a goal to store every detail in his mind palace. Hannibal leaned down, licked up slowly, and stifled a grateful groan at Will’s flesh being so close to his oral cavity.

Will breathlessly groaned and buried one side of his face into the sheets, hair splayed around his head in a halo-like fashion as Hannibal could see his profile gasping out breaths of pleasure at the warmth of his tongue. “H-hannibal,” his voice was hoarse, desperate, “wah-ah~... Why~? Why?”

“Relax…” He mumbled against his hole, gently grabbing his cock and tugging it to near completion, waiting to feel him relax again. Gently feeling up his hamstrings, Hannibal aimed to feel the muscle drop in his hands. He was enjoying the fat of his thighs, the whole thing was making the unforgiving feeling almost too overwhelming for him. 

Will groaned softly, tensed muscles relaxing under Hannibal's firm hands, lashes fluttering in bliss before his eyes closed trustingly. He was the lamb laid out for the slaughter.

The butcher was more than ready, though had a contemplating feeling, finally he couldn’t take it anymore, he licked his fingers and pushed a single digit in. He kept his middle finger in a slow rhythmic motion, keeping a steady pace to help Will along patiently

Will's hips twitched away from his fingers before relaxing and gradually grinding back into the motions of Hannibal's hand. The position left Will feeling emotionally distant but he rationalized that he prefers that over seeing what Hannibal was thinking. 

Hannibal kept glancing over the clean slate he had noted earlier, the look of it was a more annoying itch than the clothing had been, and grinded into his mental state. Hannibal stifled the urge lunge and chose a soother approach, letting soft kisses trail up from his left hamstring, to his glute, then to his lower back. The soft gentle kisses soon turned into intense, sloppy nipping and sucking on his soft flesh. 

Will was in heaven, gladly melting into Hannibal’s controlled actions, burying his face in the sheets as he became painfully aware of his hanging erection and compromised position below his psychiatrist.

Hannibal smiled a little, watching him continue to relax and become more accustomed to the movements. He then added a second finger, spitting harshly in hopes to earn a shiver or so.

Wills hole succumbed to Hannibal's finger, tightening once before loosening to allow the penetration. Curly brown hair fell over and began to stick to his flushed face as his mouth fell slack to allow soft appreciative noises to escape. Hannibal watched, enraptured at the blush that spread from Will's face and neck, to his shoulders, spine, and thighs. A shine of drool was obvious against his slack bottom lip, but even through the onslaught of mind numbing pleasure, intuitive blue eyes opened, flickering around his line of sight, and closed again. Even when relinquishing control, Will was taking everything in other than Hannibal's countenance. The psychiatrist absentmindedly questioned what Will saw in him during their first meeting.

He continued watching the relaxed body that was in his hands. He sighed, adding the third one boredly, thinking about all the things he could to do the boy rather than the monotonous stretching which managed to take up nearly eight minutes of their time together.

Said boy released an abortive whimper, yielding to his prodding finger easily.

“Ahh…” the doctor mumbled, stopping his delicious movements, kissing his thighs and calves apologetically. “Just relax. We have all the time in the world.”

“Y-your fingers feel urgent… please, I’m not made of porcelain.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you… please?” The blond mumbled into his back as he pushed his lips against it softly, kissing his flesh reassuringly. The monster in Hannibal’s mind screamed at him to take from Will. It screeched at him to take and plunder and hollow the boy until he was no longer the beautiful threat Hannibal so feared. Hannibal realized, then, he didn’t fear what Will could do to him, but rather, what he could do to Will.

Will contemplated with an unsure expression before nodding and grinding back into his fingers. Hannibal sat there, the warmth of Will’s insides were driving him insane, the sphincter slowly letting loose, he nodded his head, needing more than just waiting.

“Tell me how it feels…” he mumbled, gently spreading his fingers. 

Will groaned softly, nuzzling his face deeper in the sheets, husky yet high voice muffled by his springed cushion, “I-ah… It's good,” He whimpered, “really good.”

And at the moment the feeling faded a bit, he abruptly pulled his fingers out, wishing for it to come back, his voice was still calm, but straining, “Are you ready for me…?” 

“I've been,” Will snarks at him, dimple cutting into his cheek from a smile that spread, the only blue eye visible sparkling with amusement.

“Good…” he hummed, undressing himself. It was unusual… the feeling came back to him. What was this urge? It was beautiful yet heart wrenching at the same time. He looked back down at the younger, positioning his stiff penis at his hole, making sure to go slow at the first push into him. 

Will released a breathless keen, fist digging into the sheets at the unnatural feeling of a foreign object, much larger than Hannibal's fingers, pushing into him.

Hannibal let out a subtle groan, gently holding his hips as he felt the muscle of his anus open up more.

Will began to gasp out as more pushed inside of him, eyes widening and back arcing to better take Hannibal.

Continuing to push into him, he watched. Every second of shaking, crying, moaning, only served to intoxicate him- no. Not this way. He sighed, pulling out of him and stroking his own erection. “Turn over…” he mumbled, almost in defeat, broad chest heaving in effort as he controlled himself.

When Hannibal pulled out, Will's hole gaped briefly before tightening under his scrutiny. Will turned over weakly. Hannibal was somewhat unprepared to see him but needed to at the same time. The thought of the messy hair, the flushed face, his watery blue eyes (That he aimed to gouge out after their first meeting) made him more than stiff. He pulled his hands off his hips, waiting on him patiently to turn over as he mentally prepared himself for the image that was forever about to be burned into his memory. It was rubbing him raw at not knowing. He kissed his shoulder reassuringly, wanting him to take his time. 

Will allowed himself to lay back under Hannibal's eyes. Hannibal got exactly what was expected, maybe more. Will's chest rose and fell with his bated breaths, bringing attention to his standing nipples, rubbed red from the rough sheets under his chest. His chest and thighs, which were spread apart, were blushing a subtle, healthy, red, body clammy with need, a need only the cannibal above him could fill.

Hannibal grabbed his hips softly as he positioned him again, gently pushing his cock back into him easily, as though he was made to be there but resumed a slow pace of course. He wanted to feel every muscle relax, every shudder, every hitched breath. He wanted it all, and only wanted it from the brunette underneath him. 

A keening whine came from Will's throat, eyes averted but slowly drifting towards the man above him. His panting grew stronger as more of the rod pressed up into him. Will felt like it would never end, but he still craved more somehow. Hannibal had him where he wanted him, in the bed, pinned and hard, sweating over what his next move was.

He leaned down and kissed Will softly, cupping his thighs a bit firmly as he pushed more in, no longer stopping and spitting on them. 

Will released an abortive groan as the rest of the length was pressed into his hesitant body, blue eyes rolling back slightly when Hannibal's cock coincidentally hit his spot, pleasure mixing beautifully with the burning stretch.

Hannibal, holding the brunettes hips, continued to stay still, holding back his urges to slam into Will and attempting to smother the burning flame of desire he had for the boy. “Tell me when…” he murmured against Will’s ear softly, smiling faintly as goosebumps rose from his pale arms. Hannibal couldn’t handle the unrelenting emotion he felt for the threat that laid beneath him.

Will shifted with a nod, chest rising and falling in hitching breaths as be comprehended the foreign object penetrating him. Slowly, he reached up, and pulled the older man down into his neck. “Go,” he murmured quietly, eyes shut and brows furrowed in focus as he fought against the discomfort in his lower region. With a sudden jolt of pleasure, gentle and sporadic thrusting began, the serial killer wanting to keep William alert. It made him react to the drug Hannibal was to him. His of source of cocaine. 

Lecter continued to advance into him relentlessly, taking pleasure in listening to the surprised, nearly pained groans soon melt into those of a higher pitch, indicating his pleasure. The feeling that plagued Hannibal grew stronger as he felt Will’s walls constrict and relax around him, as though his body didn’t know how to respond. God, what he would give to watch his body react through a different set of eyes, the gaping of his tight entrance, the curling of his toes, the messy hair, how his fingers were fidgeting. He now understood why stalkers would take videos or photos of their victims, and why Hannibal himself took it upon himself to scope out Will’s home when he was tasked with feeding his dogs. He understood it now and what wouldn’t he give to watch the brunette become a bigger mess under him, all by an intimate act between lovers? His thrusting slowed down, he was beginning to understand, but at the same time was still processing. 

Will was soon suspended in a state of euphoria, though he had problems comprehending it similar to Hannibal comprehending his feelings. Sensing the apprehension above him, he reached up, tangled his fingers in short, ashen hair, and pulled him down into a passionate, open kiss. Hannibal subtly felt jealousy towards Alana and the other women that experienced such a kiss before him.

The thrusting came to a sudden stop as Hannibal pressed his forehead to Will’s. “Will... “, he mumbled softly, looking into his eyes despite Will’s own wanting to advert, “I think I love you…” he confessed, the feeling he identified as love was now overtaken by anxiety. Why was this so hard? He waited for his response, biting his bottom lip as he waited to hear a response but fearing the rejection could strike him down. 

When Will’s eyes finally settled on Hannibal’s, aqua contrasting with maroon, Hannibal felt weirdly judged, scrutinized by the man he convinced himself he had control over, but the release of dominance despite their positions was liberating. “...I think I love you too,” Will spoke after a silence that pained the older man. Finally those striking eyes closed as he allowed himself to relax, ready for Hannibal to continue into him like before. Taking the hint, he began to thrust into him again, his thrusts more drug out, more love and thought put into them as he watched Will. He pinched his chin, holding his face still so he could watch his various reactions. 

Will’s eyes were shut almost stubbornly, having allowed Hannibal to see them before and reverting back into usual habits. Appreciative moans left the boy’s parted lips, fingers tracing the defined muscles on Hannibal’s back. Will questioned why a psychiatrist needed to be so built, but didn’t complain as the strength of the man contributed to his current pleasure. Hannibal obviously enjoyed it whenever Will felt over his back, the excitement of his obliviousness only turned him on more. He pushed Will into the bed strongly, thrusting more into his entrance, gripping his hips harder, bruising him with love- possession. In response the boy bared his defined neck, adam's apple bobbing as he gasped for the breath knocked out of him by his friend’s powerful thrusts. He allowed his hands to fall limply from his back to claw at the sheets instead of his skin. 

Annoyed, Hannibal grabbed the headboard, pushing himself up to his knees, slightly slowing the thrusts to adjust Will by his hips, pausing to tighten the hold he had around his waist. 

Will moaned out in surprise as Hannibal’s hips shifted his own. He’d never seen or felt the man in such a passionate state, and despite the distance he’d put between them, Will reached back up for more intimacy, gripping at his neck and hair almost too firmly for his own taste. It was an act of desperation. It grounded him. Hannibal sighed out in pleasure, having Will exactly where he wanted him.

The thrusts began to plunge deeper into him as he gripped the headboard harder.

Hannibal began to lose his passionate unpredictability, machine-like and intoxicatingly direct movements taking over the pattern previously set in place. Somehow Will felt it was more overwhelming than before, the constant onslaught of unforgiving thrusts into his prostate was nearly unbearable as his fingers gripped and held onto the hair on his neck harsher, like reciprocation for the pain bordering pleasure he was feeling in his gut. 

It was obvious to Hannibal that Will was close, a slight shine of moisture apparent on the swollen tip of his cock, which looked almost painfully stiff to Hannibal when he glanced down to regard it. Giving a slight chuckle, he balanced himself against the headboard, then took the member that Will had been so obedient as to not touch, into his hand, holding it for a moment as he felt the rushing blood and heat come off of it. The feeling he had identified as love sunk back into the picture and Hannibal finally agreed with himself. Yes, he did love Will. Every shake, rush of blood, every drop of precum, it only sent him over the edge that much more. He began stroking the boy slowly, one part of him wanting to hear a cry, the other part wanting to make him moan out in pleasure. 

One thing Hannibal could barely comprehend was how different he looked at Will compared to others. Said man, when first analyzing one of Hannibal’s crime scenes, crudely said Hannibal viewed humans as one would view a pig, which was fairly accurate but not nearly how Hannibal would explain his mentality. Humans were meat. They were cells joined together, all satisfying their own purposes. Humans were meat, organs, nerves, veins, and false compassion brought on by societal manipulation. Hannibal was immune to that; he was different, and when he viewed Will, he felt a similar difference.

Will melted into his hand, defined hips meeting Hannibal’s fist fluidly, with a practiced precision Hannibal realized. Slick pre-cum easing the path of Hannibal’s hand.

Will cried out, grabbing for the sheets as he fought against the nature begging for relief before giving in with a hoarse, exacerbated whine. “Please Hannibal,” his tone was soft and unsure. Hannibal could feel satisfaction settle in his chest. 

“Please what?” He asked firmly, now hitting his prostate and stroking his swollen erection relentlessly.

“Pleas- uhn-! Please Hannibal, you know what I want you ba-bastard,” Will attempted to speak through the onslaught, pleasured look on his face and soft tone contradicting the acidity of his words. He was clawing now, neck bared in submission, begging for the relief he needed subconsciously. Blush and heat spread over his body from the sex and fever at once. Sensing the malice in his voice, he slammed more into his prostate, watching the body under him react to the suddenness, 

Will’s eyes opened suddenly, shocked, similar to looks he occasionally gets from victims who called themselves Hannibal’s friend. The boy stiffened under him at the complete domination, as he screamed out and grabbed at whatever he could desperately, eyes filling with moisture before rolling back slightly and cumming so suddenly even Hannibal was surprised, as he didn’t think it was capable for him to ejaculate without proper stimulation to his member. Hannibal pulled out, gripping his hips and turning him over as he sat Will down on his still stiff erection, holding his hips and continuing to slam him down onto the issue Will was so rude as to leave him with. 

Will was barely responsive, merely releasing soft sounds at each brutal thrust and leaning his head limply to Hannibal’s broad shoulder. Soon, the high of his orgasm faltered and he began to whimper at the over stimulation, too physically exhausted to fight it and wanting to reciprocate the pleasure Hannibal gave him.

Getting close to his own physical relief, he continued into the constricting walls, gripping the headboard more than hard, then shuddered, pausing to let the feeling of ecstasy, almost bliss, take over, but not wanting to pull out. 

A tremor wracked Will’s body at the feeling of being filled, a completely new, unfamiliar sensation to him as a faint, indiscernible sound left his mouth, not exactly pleasured or discomforting.

Pulling out, he looked the boy over, questioning as he looked over his eyes and his face, making sure he was comfortable.

A soft groan of mild discomfort left Will’s mouth as he shifted and felt Hannibal’s release leave his body, looking away in embarrassment when he noticed the aforementioned man looking him over.

“Are you okay…?” Hannibal cupped his cheeks, feeling over his cheek bones before dropping his thumb down to feel over his lips.

“I am,” He breathed, eyes closed softly. He released a shuddering breath and thought for a moment. “Thank you.”

He was then encompassed by a beast seeking the warmth of a man who cared too much. Later, Will would be sickened by how easily he melted into the Devil’s cursed arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
